


Heat Wave

by semele



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-19
Updated: 2018-08-19
Packaged: 2019-06-29 21:01:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15737274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/semele/pseuds/semele
Summary: In hindsight, Bellamy thinks, he probably should’ve expected that his people won’t take it very well to the summer.(Set in canon-esque universe in which the Delinquents broke away from the rest of the Ark at some point, set up a separate village, and started building a life for themselves.)





	Heat Wave

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shortitude](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shortitude/gifts).



> Shortitude prompted me with "on a hot day" for the [Bellamy/Raven: soft prompts edition](http://ravenbells.tumblr.com/post/177170115669/bellamyraven-soft-prompts-edition). I did that thing where I tried not to think too hard about what I'm doing, and just write.

In hindsight, Bellamy thinks, he probably should’ve expected that his people won’t take it very well to the summer.

On the Ark, whether you liked it or not, there was a certain stability built in. Path were uniformly smooth, walls made out of the same metals wherever you went. Even air was as controlled as it could be, always the same humidity and pressure, and the same kind of chill setting in your bones every night. On the ground, sometimes it feels like no two hours are the same; nature waiting round every corner, and trying to get you. Bellamy still remembers the first time they had a storm, and the massive headache that hit him a few hours before, to Lincoln’s unbearable amusement.

In many ways winter was easier, because at least they all knew what to expect. It’s something that shines through books and movies, even the ones they had back on the Ark: winter is the enemy, it’s danger and hardship, and you need to be well-armed to deal with it. After winter, everything was supposed to start getting better, and in many ways, it did – they have food in abundance, and their skin doesn’t crack from the cold, not to mention the wonderful lack of pneumonia in the village. They really shouldn’t be complaining, but maybe it’s just human nature that they still do.

Raven is one of the few quiet ones, but Bellamy still feels the displeasure humming under her skin. It must be harder for her than for most of them, her brace hot to the touch, and heavy enough that she needs to keep her long pants on no matter the heat. What seems to annoy her even more is hot nights, sweaty and sleepless as she tries to find a comfortable way to lie down among rejected blankets.

“Where is it even coming from?” she hisses uncomfortably one night, and Bellamy takes care not to touch her as he rolls to his side to face her.

“The ground, I think? I read it somewhere that it can store and radiate heat.”

“No shit, Sherlock.”

He doesn’t even point out that she’s being snappish, because it’s not like she doesn’t know herself. She even has this air about her, the way Raven does when she immediately regrets something she said.

“I miss you holding me,” she whispers, and he can tell from the outline of her head that even now she’s making a point not to look at him. Some things are easier to say in the dark, but that still doesn’t make them easy.

And then, because she is Raven: “And fucking. I miss fucking. Don’t you dare touch me now.”

He can’t help a laugh, and risk just a little bit of her wrath to lean over and kiss her very sweaty forehead.

“Gross,” she comments without missing a beat, but her fingers still find his on their shared cot, and squeeze them tightly to tell him how much she misses him. It’s all the contact they can bear now.

***

The next day is so unforgivingly hot that the whole village collectively gives up on work. There is no point using resources and forcing themselves to push through, when they’re getting very little done. Anyway, Lincoln swears that this will last a few days tops. Might as well have a holiday.

A holiday, as it turns out, is a foreign concept for Raven, not that Bellamy is surprised, having lived through four snow days with her last winter. The rest of the village is less prepared, but unlike Bellamy, they are also too busy looking for shadows to pay too much attention to Raven’s moods.

He spends a good hour trying to figure out how to lure Raven out of her workshop, and when she is the one to come to him in the end, he is so surprised he almost jumps.

“Come on, we’re going to the river,” she says with some resignation. “We both stink, and Sinclair kicked me out of the workshop because circuits are overheating. Might as well.”

It goes exactly like you’d expect; they end up alone outside the village, and they’ve only been together for a few months, so their minds end up going exactly where yours is going right now. By the time they reach the river bank, Raven is wrapping her arms around Bellamy’s shoulders, and kissing him like no tomorrow, familiar sharp smile right there on her lips.

“Everything is gross,” she whines, not letting go. “But I want…”

“I know.”

It’s one of those weird things that come with sleeping with someone for months and months; more ease and less passions snapping. Back when they first started, he would’ve almost clawed on her desperately, but now he has the patience that comes with hunger that’s regularly sated. He wants her, of course he does, but then, he always does, so there is no reason to rush. He lets the kisses and touches run their course, letting himself be bolder and bolder, then takes his clothes and hers, and wraps them in a tight bundle he places in the shallows like a pillow. Once that’s done, he can guide Raven to lie down in lukewarm water, her head held up by their clothes, and settle between her legs.

“You’ll get a sunburn,” she complains even as she wraps her legs around his waist, and when she bites his lip as if to emphasize she isn’t letting him go, he wants to laugh, happy despite endless discomforts; sun too hot on his back, and water too warm and soupy around his legs, offering no relief at all.

In the end, the novelty of having sex in shallow water loses with the reality of it, and they give up with a booming laughter, Raven’s limbs loose, finally loose, even as she sits up and starts scrubbing sweat off her skin, defeated.

“This sounded so much cooler in porn,” she points out, earning herself a shrug.

“Yeah, a lot of stuff does. Remember when…”

“Bellamy, no.”

“Oh, come on. That time last month when…”

“No.”

It’s a dirty trick, really, that she silences him by wrapping her hand around his cock, and giving it exactly the right kind of tug, the kind that not even her smug smile can ruin for him, but, well. All in all, there are worse tragedies in life.


End file.
